Short Story
A Funeral
I am marred by a friendship I once had. He was at the funeral and I was not invited to his wedding. Another friend of mine had received an invitation and informed me, and surely my friend at the funeral had known that.
We gathered around the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. The rabbi started praying. I saw faces of mothers of my childhood friends who were now struck by crows feet and pockmarks and blemishes, and I saw such sadness in their eyes as they saw their friend lowered into the earth. They were the same but their faces had aged tremendously. Brunette and blonde hair started to shine with gray streaks. Purses stayed old, little flowers and clips, in the styles of their time. Modern purses were too boxy and minimal for them. I believe the purses were more sentimental than convenient at that point.
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